To Do with The Length

Monday morning, the cloudy sky and the silent house, made me reminiscing how it's been months I've been detached from some sides of the real worlds. I miss Jogja.

Tea and crackers.

I dramatically decided to stop the melancholy, and think; let's have something random to read today. So, after searching randomly in my bags, the one that's been hiding was :

Gerakan Sabuk Hijau - Wangari Maathai. Indonesian version translated by Ilsa Meidina

The Green Belt Movement: Sharing the Approach and the Experience - Wangari Maathai

The book's been hiding quite long. Being light and simple, it's become my bring-along book. Wangari Maathai is an a amazing person, true. The world suffers a great loss with her death. Yes, it is.

And, this book disappoints.

Reading it is like wearing uniform and standing in the heat, listening to the Headmaster's speech, or the Governor's, or the President's, whoever, but still a long speech, about the same old theme. and you're standing in the heat.

The terms and the sentences used in every parts are hardly different. When reading it, felt like I've been staring the same page for hours. Sometimes I was thinking if she really wrote it, or just copying project reports and proposals from her desk. That, and also the way the words compiled into it, made the book very.. two-dimensional, sort of like I'm the wrong reader to read it.

Yet through it all, apart from itself as a book, the contents are great. It's hard to believe to see someone still can be so positive. For decades having the faith struggling for a subject as "simple" as planting trees.
The organization is amazing. If half the people on this earth can have half of their bravery, I guess we'll be alright after all.

~

Six months ago, when I bought this book, it's because it's one of Wangari Maathai writings. But my biggest mistakes were to realize (and remember) that mainly, the book is about The Green Belt Movement, it is not an autobiographical of Wangari, as I wished to be.

Though I guess, all books, all writings, are an autobiographical. 

In its own ways.